


Mister Darcy and The Hood

by iffy_kanoknit, royalelephant



Category: Pride and Prejudice (1995), Robin Hood (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, M/M, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-14 16:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iffy_kanoknit/pseuds/iffy_kanoknit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/royalelephant/pseuds/royalelephant
Summary: It’s just a bit of small changes, is it not?Or at least, that was what the expression on the blue-eyed young man inferred.And that was how Mister Darcy first laid his eyes on the fair young Lord Loxley.------Mister Darcy has worked too long in this case to let the arrival of a minor lord derail his plan. But he's intrigued anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After a couple rounds in the theater with Robin Hood 2018. Iffy and I could help but think how TE always appears in a film where he has older man as his mentor. The we got into it and imagine, which of CF's characters would fit in this universe? We settled on Pride and Prejudice miniseries in 1995. Ummm, that lake scene.
> 
> Here, our Mister Darcy has had time to grow since his failed romance with Elizabeth Bennet and is now in his 30s. Oh, and he's also a spy for the crown.

 

 

Prologue: Enter

 

 

Drawn out sound of coins clinking onto the donation tray echoed throughout the great hall of Nottingham cathedral teeming with aristocrats and bourgeoises alike. Prolonged melodious tinkling attracted answering noises of awe and jealousy from all church-goers, craning their necks to see the maker of the sound.

 

That very person, however, looked around himself innocently, as if not quite comprehending the cause of such focus for the ladies and gentlemen. Those who were now looking and gossiping in his general direction.

 

It’s just a bit of small changes, is it not?

 

Or at least, that was what the expression on the blue-eyed young man inferred.

 

And that was how Mister Darcy first laid his eyes on the fair young Lord Loxley.

 

 

\----- 

 

 

 

Today the Sheriff’s expression, which was already rather tight, mind, was even stressed tighter than usual.

 

Darcy felt it the moment he walked into the parlor at the Sheriff’s resident and city hall where the noblemen would gather to converse about their ideal politics, Nottingham treasury reserves, the crusade war. Depressing in his humble opinion, very interesting in all the rest’s.

 

When it came to these members, all became tedious and ineffectual pursuits.

 

Still, he must attend no matter how disgusted it made him feel, and report to “the power that be” as was his duty.

 

Then again.

 

The initial awkwardness that always occurred at the start of such meetings dissipate in the instant the new quest arrived.

 

“Lord Loxley!” as well as the stress in the Sheriff as well as, it seemed.

 

“Sheriff, sir”

 

The older man clothed in severe, dove-grey leather coat approached the newcomer with relaxed stance. Intriguing, since from the months he had been a member of this court, Darcy had observed the Sheriff initiated a greeting only to the Archdeacon. With such expression, though, never at all.

 

Darcy wondered whether the Sheriff realized that those smiles from the charming lord contain no honest emotions of any kind.

 

“Mister Darcy” The old man called for him. “You might have met Lord Loxley, at the cathedral this past Sunday”

 

He was quite surprised when he found himself standing by the end of the couch at the center of the room, as he _was_ sitting at the wet bar with Pembroke by the corner just seconds ago.

 

“Ah” He said intelligently. The young man he’d looked from afar at the crowded church hall that day now stood before him. Clad in stylish wool grey jacket not unlike the Sheriff’s, dark blond hair gleaming, pale skin radiant, this young man seemed aglow with health and wellbeing. No trace of soldiering long years at war.

 

“You are the instrumentalist who played those beautiful sounds in the cathedral” Even more alarming were the words from his own lips. Such…similes. Any of those syllables had not passed through any part of his brain.

 

A soft laugh and blushed cheeks were drawn from the recipient. “I only did what is appropriate” was the response. Angelic innocence abruptly shifted to a sarcastic sneer for a split second comparable those adorning all the other lords in the room. The sheriff, however, did not see that change, as he was gazing curiously at Darcy’s earlier comment.

 

Darcy was not quite certain which of those faces were the real Lord Loxley.

 

But the delicate smile, soft laughter, and shy look were all recorded in his memory. Not a little drop of it remained for the sheriff to take away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Mister Darcy decides to follow the very curious Lord Loxley back to his manor. And things didn't quite go as planned after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up after the meeting with the Sheriff, Mister Darcy was lying in wait for the intriguing young lord. Only to be beaten to the punch by Will Tillman. What's a man to do? Of course, follow the object of your "suspicions" home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Mister Darcy is a spy, but Robin is not alone. Let's see what happens.

 

 

 

Turning at an angle so his face was not quite looking at the sound of the door being opened and shut behind the new player in the Sheriff’s circle, Darcy contemplated the faint signs of shock and distress in Lord Loxley’s expression. He considered if he should approach the young man and strike up a conversation. To find out more about his intentions, of course. It was his duty to know all the inner circle after all.

 

He would have done exactly that too, if not for someone calling out to Lord Loxley. An aspiring commoner trying to get into higher political field named William Tillman, Darcy recalled him speaking out on behalf of the commoner several times with a woman at his side even more outspoken than her man. He seemed upstanding enough, acting as leader of the people, though not quite effectual under the Sheriff’s regime.

 

From the sound he could overheard of the short conversation, Lord Loxley was not much open to acquaint himself with the man. And if what Tillman said was to be believed, it was over a woman as well. Mariam? Ah, Mr. Tillman’s wife. The outspoken maid who always spoke against the Sheriff and somehow managed to always getaway with it.

 

Darcy would have still proceeded with his original plan of approach, playing up the desire to be on good terms with the Sheriff’s new favourite man, but then their parting words made him pause. They were sharing opinions on the Hood, and disparaging would be an understatement for what Mr. Tillman opined. Which was rather odd, as the mysterious thief was working against the oppressor and giving back to the poor. He rather thought those clear intents would have endeared the thief to a leader of the people like Tillman.

 

Even curiouser, however, was the dismissive parting words uttered for Lord Loxley’s lovely lips.

 

“I wouldn’t bet against him”

 

_Huh. The man does know more than he let on._

 

That, was a thought worth pursuing. It has been some time since he had done physical tracking on horseback, but the young lord seemed distracted enough from his tremulous thoughts from whatever conversation with the Sheriff after the old man has chased them all but one out of the room and then from an unpleasant encounter with the commoner. Darcy could always say he wanted to visit with the lord and was just unable to catch him before departure anyhow.

 

Decided, Darcy signaled for his horse to be brought to the front door, hoping he’d catch Lord Loxley’s trails before he got too far away.

 

 

**∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞**

 

 

 

“You are trespassing”

 

A voice sounded from behind startled him out of his thoughtful trance. Not willing to show his surprise, Mr. Darcy slowly turned from his observation of the ruined manor home on top of the Loxley land—where in the supposedly affluent Lord Loxley had just disappeared. A man cloaked in tattered clothes as dark as his skin melted from behind the dilapidated house he’d thought empty  and thus safe for use to conceal himself from the Lord’s eyes. Not so much then.

 

Staying in character, he sniffed in mild disdain at the…workman? “Not as such, commoner. I merely wish to converse with your lord. Perhaps you shall take me to him.”

 

“Yes, sir. It must be an emergency for you to have been following him all the way from the Sheriff’s House.” The man sniggered, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Darcy belatedly noticed the rather large polished stick in his right hand. “What do you want?”

_Bugger_. He had been made then. Darcy sighed internally and shifted his stance to ready for a fight. He did not anticipate a confrontation such as this when he’d followed the young Lord from the meeting with the Sheriff, seeing that the man seemed too preoccupied to notice he was being shadowed. He should have realised it was a trap when the wealthy lord rode straight up to the abandoned village and manor without a glance backward. The man served in war for four years, of course he had known he was being followed. 

 

His thought was cut short when the dark man suddenly attacked, large wooden stick stabbing whip-fast like a snake. He must have taken too long to respond (brooded) and thus provoked even more suspicions. Darcy jumped back hastily out of range, but the stick followed even faster so he had no choice but to draw his own sword, cursing his own inattention that put him in a disadvantage.

 

Knowing his slim sword wouldn’t be much use as defense, he tried to step around the opponent to find an angle to attack. He finally managed to deter the stick—and the man holding it—with a sharp jab toward the left side where, he found, the man had no hand, only to find himself backed up against the wall of the house. By then the dark man was already coming at him, stick raised, so he had no choice but to raise his sword up …

 

Whop! An arrow sailed through the spaces between their weapons and his sleeve at the wrist, effectively pinned his right arm to the wooden wall. Whop! Whop! Two more arrows embedded themselves in his jacket at the other wrist and by the neck, stopping both him and the other man in their track.

 

Up above on the highest window of the manor, Lord Loxley stood with bow in hand, a pair of arrows at the ready, his eyes cold.

 

“Bring him inside, John”

 

“Mister Darcy”

 

Lord Loxley greeted coolly from his perch at the bay window once he was led up the four flight of stairs to what appeared to be the attic. Burnt wood and cold winter air surrounded him like a shroud, reflecting the melancholy in those red-rimmed stormy eyes like ice and fire. The eyes which were currently piercing him as sharply as the arrowheads he wielded.

_Beautiful, as all tragedies do._

 

“Lord Loxley” Darcy nodded with as much dignity as being manhandled afforded. Which was not much, but he made do. Falling back on manners like any good Englishman, he moved to strengthen his, now holey, jacket only to be reminded of the ropes biding his person and the man currently holding its end.

 

“Not so fast” ‘John’ growled a warning, not moving his eyes away from his person, he addressed his lord in equally growly voice. “He followed you from the meeting today, mind telling me who he is?”

_Not a workman then_. Darcy surmised from the tone, wondering on the nature of the man’s relationship with Lord Loxley.

 

 “We met in that Meeting. Mister Darcy of Derbyshire. Very rich. Not noble. An acquaintance of Pembroke. Suspicious” The young man rattled off like military report, which, given his background, it might as well be. It also brought to light the power balance between the two. These were not the lord and his manservant after all.

 

“And despite that, meant you no harm” He answered before John could respond, sensing correctly who possessed more mercy among them. “I was only intrigued”

 

“Intrigued, huh? You shadowed him all the way here with more skills than a nobleman should have. But you are not a noble at all, aren’t you. Tell me, are you a spy for the church?” John shook him roughly once, his gestures obvious; Mister Darcy would likely be killed if he didn’t like the answers.

 

“John, let him go” Loxley ordered, his voice tired. Though it sounded like the heaven’s bells from Darcy’s position right at the moment. He was right in his initial impressions of the lord’s merciful heart.

 

“Robin…” John protested “If he is a spy for the Sheriff—“

 

“He’s not” Robin— _charming name_ —cut him off, then directed the next question at Darcy “You are not, right, Mister Darcy?”

 

“No, I am, indeed, not”

 

“Yes, but I wonder. Who do you spy for?” The question continued, nonchalant. As if asking about the weather. “I might not be a spy, Mister Darcy, but I know anomaly when I see one.”

 

Lord Loxley suddenly strengthened up from his slouch, body and expression hard as steel. Gone were the traces of the merciful Robin moments before. The lord stepped closer to Darcy, voice low and dark in his inquisition. “You play at being one of them, even have Pembroke vouched for your present among the lords of Nottingham, must have paid your way in with almost as much money as I did. Yet you are here, having followed me home and had the courage to fight John even. Why such interest in a minor Lord such as myself, if not to report back to the Sheriff or the Church? Who else?”

 

They were so close that Darcy could feel the warmth emanating from the body in front of him and he shuddered minutely, hoping the two men would attribute that reaction to fear and not what it actually was; desire. Momentarily glad that his hands were tied up behind him or they might have moved of its own will, like his legs did in their initial meeting.

 

Glancing around the dark attic and the two men once again, Darcy decided to take a leap of faith. “I am a spy for the king, Lord Loxley. Or should I say, The Hood?”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's be honest, Robin and John weren't at all subtle in their anything be it relations, motives, or extra-curricular activities. The Sheriff was hoodwinked and distracted by the absolutely fine ass and cute smiles personified that is Lord Loxley. I know he kinda suspect several times, but then Robin smiled at him and he lost his train of thought XDXD As would I. I don't blame you, Mr. Sheriff. 
> 
> Mister Darcy, however, had the benefit of not being the target of any such smiles, and had heard Robin's real opinion of the Hood. Then the fight with John, John's appearance itself, the arrows, the attic. Of course he knows either of these two is the Hood. And John has only one hand, so...
> 
> The scene with Will was added by Iffy for your benefit specifically for this reason. You're the best, girl.


End file.
